


Merry Christmas

by Saetha



Series: Two Suns in the Sunset [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (yes this is Arwen), Christmas, Family, Fluff, HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE, Humour, Other, Polyamory, also thinly-veiled homophobia from assholes that Dwalin puts down quickly HA, and Thorin's adorable family wreaking havoc, lots others of the Company mentioned, this entire thing is like one hundred percent sappy bastards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas party at work leads to drunkenness and amusing recollections of the past. A family gathering on Christmas Eve ends with everyone laughing on the floor. And a quiet end of Boxing Day leads to unexpected gifts and cosiness. All in all? It couldn't be better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeey everyone, here, have a little present for the holiday! Something fun and slightly romantic (and not angsty! Can I get an applause haha).
> 
> I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU for being such lovely and supportive people and the best readers one could hope for. I never thought my fics would get any Kudos at all, seeing that I'm not writing the most popular ship in the fandom, but you've proven me wrong! Thank you so so so much for every single comment, kudos, reblog, like and everything else. Dworin shippers are the best and our little dinghy sails happily and hopefully will do so next year too :). I LOVE YOU ALL AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU! ♥

"Thorin, your boyfriend is flirting with the coffee machine."

Tauriel's statement came pretty high up on Thorin's list of 'most ridiculous sentences he'd ever heard’, right after Frerin's "Brother, _help_ , I'm stuck in a stone vagina" and 10-year-old Kíli's "Uncle, can you show us how to disassemble a rifle?".

“Uhm.” His own ability to produce meaningful answers was slightly impaired by the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed so far. His thoughts seemed to be suspiciously slow, but he finally managed to come up with an answer. Maybe Frerin was right when he had once told him that he spaced out ‘more often than a guru on drugs’ when he was drunk.

“Leave him be.” He noticed that there was a bit of a Christmas Cracker stuck in Tauriel’s hair. For some reason Thorin found the observation rather hilarious and he tried to suppress a grin. “Call me when he tries to make out with the printer.”

“I’m not his mum. Watch him yourself.” Tauriel shot a meaningful glance at her own partner who was currently filling up her wine glass again. “I’ve got other things to do.”

Thorin followed her gaze in Arwen’s direction.

“Looks like that problem is taking care of itself.” he observed quietly and pointed at Aragorn, who, after a look at the almost empty wine bottle and the full glass in his partner’s hand put his arm around Arwen’s shoulders and slowly guided her away from the table with the drinks on.

“Thank God for Aragorn.” Tauriel sighed. “Arwen’s still prone to drinking slightly too much although she has no reason to spite her dad anymore. I’m doing a well enough job with that.”

The last sentence sounded slightly bitter and Thorin took a moment to remember that Elrond had never truly approved of his daughter being in more than one relationship at the same time, especially not with one of the best _female_ members of their local SWAT unit. Arwen, Tauriel and Aragorn seemed happy enough in their relationship, however, and who was Thorin to judge anyway?

Tauriel sauntered over to the two of them and Thorin took a moment to survey the hap-hazardly decorated room which was normally the main meeting room of the MOP headquarters. The Christmas Party was at the pleasant stage now where most of the people present were either drunk or at least on the best way of getting there – but not drunk enough yet to cause violent mayhem.

Dori was suspiciously watching over his youngest brother Ori who had started his internship at their station only a few months ago. They young man (Thorin had to keep himself from calling him ‘boy’ in his mind) seemed to be enjoying himself greatly, essentially hugging the chocolate fountain whilst having a talk with Dáin. If Dori hadn’t been so busy watching him, he would have noticed Nori trawling around the room, eyeing everything in it with hawk’s eyes and making sure to extract as much information as possible from his conversational partners. As a freelance journalist every tidbit of information about _anything_ was useful for him.

Their accountant Glóin and his brother Óin, the old medic of the team, were engrossed in a discussion with Bifur. Thorin was still amused at how many of his friends and colleagues had family ties with each other. After working with Bofur for so many years he hadn’t been surprised to find out that he had another brother in the force and that his second brother, Bombur, was the chief in their small cafeteria and reportedly made some of the best work lunches in Boston. He had to admit that Bombur had managed quite a feat for this Christmas Party – there was a reason that the MOP’s Christmas Party was known as one of the best ones in the entire BPD and anyone from another division who had a friend in the MOP would invite themselves over. Nobody else could boast both a chocolate fountain _and_ a fried cheese of the highest quality.

“Oi, Thorin!” Someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, only to plant a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek. Thorin sighed. Apparently his partner had given up on trying to get the coffee machine to answer him and remembered he had a real-life boyfriend instead.

“Stop it.” Unlike Dwalin, alcohol didn’t really lower his threshold for public displays of affection. Dwalin just grinned and patted the top of his head (a gesture that he knew Thorin hated).

“Sorry.” He murmured into his ear. At least he had enough of a mind left to apologise. Thorin shuddered slightly at the hot breath brushing across his earlobe and wished he could suppress the heat rushing towards his groin. Damn alcohol. He wasn’t drunk enough yet to think that sex at the workplace was a good idea. Although, Thranduil’s office was still unlocked…

The mulling of thoughts in his head was interrupted when he heard his own name spoken by Bofur’s voice. With a sour look at Dwalin Thorin walked over to where his friend was currently telling one of his favourite stories from the time before Thorin had left and become a member of his current unit.

“So…Thorin and me were on patrol like, you know, normal cops do. We get a call that there’s some drunken guy with a knife somewhere and drive there right away. It’s one of these sinister-looking alleyways like straight out of X-files, full with rubbish of all sorts. Turns out there’s not one but two guys, both of them at the end of the alley and totally going at it, one of them with a knife, the other with a broken bottle. A few onlookers standing around, but no one actually doing anything. Good cops that we are, Thorin and me get straight in there, trying to keep those two from skewering each other. The guy Thorin has is as slippery as an eel though and gets out of his grips somehow, aiming his knife straight at his best parts. Now, Thorin” and here Bofur picked up in the magnitude of the gestures accompanying his little tale so that Balin who was standing next to him with a knowing smile on his face was forced to step back, “Thorin grabs the first best thing he can to protect himself and, Lo and behold! The guy’s knife gets stuck in a solid piece of oak, probably the leg of a table or something. Thorin is so angry that he almost knocks him out cold and refuses to speak with any of the two on the entire way back.”

The conclusion of his tale was met with laughter and a few admiring whistles. Bofur grinned.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the tale of how Thorin ‘Oakenshield’ Durinsson came by his nickname.” Thorin caught the wink from him too late and as such couldn’t keep Bofur from adding: “Just imagine if he hadn’t caught that knife! Dwalin might not have much left to enjoy in that case.”

This time, the laughter was deafening. Thorin frowned – he knew that Bofur never meant any of his jests personally but sometimes he thought that his former colleague’s jokes went slightly too far, _especially_ when alcohol was involved. Dwalin let out a slight growl behind him, telling him that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t _quite_ appreciate the joke.

“So you finally found yourself a wife, hu, Oakenshield?”

Thorin’s eyes darkened and he suppressed the alcohol-fuelled urge to ram his fist into the face of the man who had just stepped forward from the crowd around Bofur. He hadn’t seen Alfrid since his days of patrolling the streets with Bofur, but time had certainly not diminished his dislike for the man and his thinly-veiled homophobic comments. How he had managed to make it into this party was beyond him. Probably by kissing someone’s ass. It was one of Alfrid’s specialties after all.

Dwalin put a hand on his shoulder, sensing his partner’s distress and suddenly seeming a whole lot more sober than before.

“He did. I’m actually fucking great at ironing. And vacuuming too. I even have flowers.” he replied with a raised eyebrow and a completely serious voice. There were a few unsure chuckles amongst the audience that had rapidly fallen silent once it had sensed the slight shift in the mood around them.

Alfrid didn’t seem to notice dangerous glint in Dwalin’s eyes that showed how close he truly was to losing his patience.

“So who’s wearing the pants in your relationship then?” Thorin could have sworn that he heard Dwalin’s teeth grinding before he deigned the question with an answer.

“Usually we both do.” he said with a meaningful glance at the clothing they were wearing. “Unless we’re having sex.”

This time there was clearly laughter being choked off somewhere behind them. Thorin still didn’t know whether he should throttle Dwalin or delight in the obvious discomfort on Alfrid’s face. Alfrid opened his mouth to another sharp reply when Bofur’s hand fell on his arm and stopped him mid-sentence.

“Leave it be, Alfrid.” With an apologetic glance at Thorin and Dwalin he started to pull Alfrid in a different direction and added: “Maybe you want to have some more of Bombur’s toasties?”

Alfrid resisted for a moment, but then gave in and let himself be led away by Bofur who returned a few moments later and quietly apologized to his friends – he clearly hadn’t meant to cause offense. The atmosphere relaxed markedly after that and soon, the chatter was back at its usual level, together with a healthy amount of roaring laughter amongst the attendees of the party.

Soon enough Dwalin and Thorin were swept back into the general merriment as well, the unpleasant interlude quickly forgotten. When Balin drove them home a few hours later Dwalin was snoring happily on Thorin’s shoulder, drooling all over his shirt whilst Thorin stretched out his leg and simply enjoyed Dwalin’s familiar warmth so close to his body, watching the lights flashing by outside.

*

Thorin had never been so busy at Christmas before he had entered a relationship with Dwalin. In the years before he had usually settled with a visit at home to please his parents, but preferred to spend at least Christmas Eve all by himself. He had also never shied away from taking shifts on both Christmas Eve and Boxing Day to give those with families of their own the possibility to have more time with their partners and children.

Even this year, both him and Dwalin had decided to work the morning shift on Boxing Day to give others the opportunity to take some time off, Thorin manning the phones in the office and Dwalin being out on patrol with Tauriel. The late afternoon and evening would be spent at Thorin’s family home as his parents had invited both him and Dwalin for Christmas Dinner. It was a marked contrast to last year when Thráin had plainly refused to acknowledge the fact that his oldest son had a partner and only invited Thorin to dinner. Thorin had simply refused the invitation without another word. This year it was likely his mother’s influence that had led to both of them getting invited.

Christmas Eve was so far proving much more enjoyable than the next day could possibly be. Balin, Frerin, Dís and her two boys had all descended upon Thorin’s and Dwalin’s apartment for a much more informal Christmas celebration that included surprisingly good Christmas Cake made by Dwalin, Cards Against Humanity and copious amounts of mulled wine except for the two youngsters.

There was much cheer in their small place, not least when Dís hesitatingly (and after quite some alcohol) decided to confess to her brother that she was honestly considering taking Bofur up on one of his countless invitations to go out with him one evening. Thorin tried not to let his eyebrows disappear in his hairline at the statement, obviously with only moderate success.

“Do whatever you want, sister.” he finally said. “You’re old enough to know what you’re doing.”

“Indeed she is!” Frerin plopped down in the sofa next to them. Thorin turned around to try and make out what Dwalin was doing, but it looked like he was engrossed in hooting with laughter at a story Fíli was telling. Kíli was thumping his brother on the back with tears in his eyes and even Balin seemed to have been moved to a hearty chuckle.

Dís just snorted at both her siblings.

“Yes I am. Certainly more mature than _you_ two will ever be.”

Frerin made a face at his sister’s words.

“Oh come on. I’m not _that_ bad, am I?”

“Yes you are. Ask Thorin if you don’t believe me. And you-“ she added with a look at her brother’s grinning face who had just been about to confirm her statement. “ _You_ better be completely quiet, Thorin ‘please dearest sister can you fix my laptop again for the fifty-eighth time’ Durinsson.”

“You’re the one with an engineering degree, not me!” Thorin protested. Dís was just about to file a sharp retort when a delighted shout from Kíli could be heard echoing through the kitchen. All heads turned into his direction as the youngster started waving a piece of paper around.

“Look what I found!” Kíli cried out excitedly. His hand stilled long enough for Dwalin to catch a look at what was written on it and he blanched.

“Hey, Kíli, give that back.” Of course his words only served to spur on the youngest of their group who gleefully started to read out the names that where written on the left side of the paper, under Thorin’s name.

“Robert Downey Jr., Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Sebastian Stan, Natalie Dormer, Robbie Williams…” Kíli looked up at Thorin whose ears were slowly turning a very dark shade of purple.”What on earth is this list? And here, Dwalin shares some names with you but has others too like Scarlett Johansson or Jason Statham.”

Thorin mumbled something unintelligible and left the explanation to Dwalin.

“It’s a list of people that we are allowed to cheat on each other with.” he finally said and Thorin wished fervently for a magic ring to make himself invisible. Dwalin’s gaze was travelling around the room, deigning anyone to make fun of them. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea to actually write _down_ the names they had come up with one late night after a Marvel movie marathon.

There was stunned silence in the room before everyone erupted in laughter. Dís and Balin were both wheezing with tears in their eyes, Fíli and Kíli laughing so hard they were unable to stay upright and Frerin was thumping the table next to him so hard Thorin was worried he would break it.

“ _Robbie Williams_?” Frerin finally asked, gasping for breath. Thorin eyed the window and contemplated if it would be worth the effort to walk over and throw himself out of it. Everyone was young once and had ridiculous crushes, damn it.

“Ask Dwalin, _he_ has Brad Pitt on there!” His statement sent his brother into another fit of laughter that the others joined in again. Dwalin sent him a glare that promised swift revenge at some point. Thorin groaned and wished Kíli would just put the list back to where he had found it, but of course none of his family could escape the temptation to comb through every single name on it again and again and comment on it in a gleefully inappropriate manner.

Thorin was torn between drowning himself in their non-existent bath tub and strangling his younger siblings who were the source for most of the comments until his eyes were caught by a rather bulky shape on top of one of their big book shelves. He felt a grin spread on his face.

“Dwalin!” he called over to his partner, loud enough so that everyone else could hear it. “Have I ever shown you our old family pictures?”

“I don’t think so.” Dwalin grinned as Dís started to object loudly from her place at the table. Thorin just ignored his sister’s protests – _oh sweet, sweet revenge_ – and took the heavy album down from its place on the shelf.

They didn’t make it further in than a single page before Dwalin started bellowing with laughter, quickly joined by the rest. Slowly, they all settled in more comfortable positions close to each other as Thorin kept turning the pages. Dwalin was sitting next to Thorin on the couch, one arm slung around him and the heavy photo album on their knees. Balin leaned over Dwalin’s side to have a look at the pictures and Dís sat next to Thorin, her face alight with memories and a smile playing around her lips. Frerin stood behind them, arms propped up on the back of the couch and his chin settled on his brother’s head. Fíli sat on the armrest next to his mother whilst Kíli was sprawled over both his brother and Dís, somehow managing to hold himself in position and sneak a few looks at the album. Thorin felt strangely warm inside when he looked at them all.

Of course the peace didn’t last. Thorin had just turned another page when Dwalin suddenly snorted and roared out laughing. Dís covered her face in her hands and Thorin grinned when he saw what had caused his partner’s mirth.

“So I never told you about Dís’ punk phase?”

“Evidently not.” Frerin laughed with a look at Dwalin’s face. “You know what was really interesting about it, though? Ma and Da absolutely _hated_ it, but they couldn’t really do much against it since our lovely sister was still getting top grades at school.“

Fíli and Kíli looked at their mother in combined awe whilst Dwalin leaned over the picture to study it more closely.

“You should have seen me at that age.” he grumbled. To everyone’s surprise it was Balin who actually laughed out loud at his brother’s words.

“Oh yes! He used to drive our parents _mad_. At one point father even threatened to disinherit him if he got one more tattoo.”

Dwalin managed to look slightly sheepish at his brother’s words, aware that he wasn’t exactly cutting too fine an example for the two youngsters in the room.

“You still turned out fairly decent.” Thorin teased, grinning again in Dwalin’s direction.

“’ _Fairly decent_?’” Dwalin growled. Thorin evaded the elbow into his ribs with a laugh, but didn’t manage to lean away quickly enough to escape the kiss Dwalin pressed on the side of his head. It said a lot about their relationship and Thorin’s love for his family that by now he was comfortable enough not to mind such gestures from his partner in their presence.

“You’ll pay for that later.” Dwalin whispered only for Thorin to hear, his lips hot and inviting on his skin.

Frerin rolled his eyes and made audible gagging noises whilst Balin and Dís unsuccessfully tried to hide their smiles. Thankfully the two younger members of their little gathering were too busy leafing through the rest of the photo album to comment.

“Uncle, there’s still a few spare pages left in the end!” Kíli shouted suddenly. “Shouldn’t we take a picture of us to fill up the space?”

Dís ruffled the hair of her youngest and smiled.

“Yes, why not?”

It took them a remarkable amount of time to set themselves up for a picture and even longer to take a proper one – Frerin seemed determined to stop every single attempt at it until they were all keeling over with laughter.

It was late at night when the others finally left and Dwalin and Thorin withdrew to their bedroom to catch at least a few hours of sleep before they had to be up again the next day.

*

The dinner at the house of Thorin’s parents went exactly as expected. Frerin quietly pushed his roasted potatoes over onto his brother’s plate under the disapproving glare of their parents who still called their youngest son’s passionate hatred for potatoes ‘a passing fancy’. Thráin treated Dwalin as if he were simply a good friend of Thorin’s and Thorin didn’t quite know who was more embarrassed – himself or the rest of the family. Dwalin took it all in good humor and for that Thorin could only be thankful.

Both of them were glad nonetheless when they opened the door to their home, finally alone again after all the hectic of the previous two days. Thorin sighed in bliss at the silence enveloping them, switching on the light, taking off his shoes and dropping his keys and coat next to the door before letting himself fall onto the sofa. Dwalin joined him only moments later, yawning loudly.

Thorin groaned when he realized that he would very much like to have a beer and that Dwalin was unlikely to fetch it for him. However, there was something else he had wanted to get anyway…with another sigh he heaved himself up from his comfortable seat and made his way into the kitchen to grab a few cans. After a small detour via the bedroom he returned to Dwalin who was eyeing him with a grin and then grabbed a can with a muttered ‘Thanks’. Thorin sat down next to him, resolving never to get up again, at least not today. With a grimace he massaged his knee, the long day and cold weather more than enough to make the old pain flare up.

He wondered how best to approach the subject of the little something he’d planned on giving to Dwalin when his partner unexpectedly stuck his hand under the table to remove a small package from his hiding place.

“I got you something.”

Thorin firmly told himself that _no_ , his ears surely _weren’t_ turning red right now, and used the moment to grab the two small gifts he had put down at the side of the sofa.

“Me too.”

For a moment there was awkward silence before Dwalin started chuckling.

“You first.” he grinned with a nod at the small box he held out in Thorin’s direction. Thorin took it from him, carefully taking off the old newspaper Dwalin had used as wrapping. He was just about to open the box when his partner suddenly growled:

“Before you open it – don’t get any ideas, I’m not going to wear a tux and march into a church with you.” Thorin grinned and just raised his eyebrows, now almost sure what the present was. Dwalin had obviously put a lot more thought into the gift than he would ever confess to and Thorin had to admit that the present was perfect.

He tried the thumb ring on under Dwalin’s watchful eyes, barely surprised when it fitted perfectly. Frerin would likely have a field day of dirty commentary on this but Dwalin _did_ have a good eye for sizes. It was a simple ring, solid silver with a black band in the middle – not too flashy but still beautiful.

“Thank you.” Thorin smiled. “Now you.”

He observed as Dwalin’s expression morphed first into surprise and then a happy grin as he unpacked the pair of comfy woolen socks and the brand new hunting knife.

“I commissioned Frerin to make them.” Thorin said with a nod at the socks.

“Frerin does knitting?” Dwalin’s surprise was palpable.

“Yeah. It’s his way of coping with anxiety.” Thorin smiled again. “He assured me that they would fit perfectly.”

Instead of a reply Dwalin simply put his hand on the back of Thorin’s neck and pulled him forwards into a kiss. Thorin’s lips curled into another smile at the movement and Dwalin couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Thank you.”

The ring on Thorin’s finger formed a pleasantly cold spot on his cheek when Thorin leaned forward again, caressing the side of his face with his fingers.

“Merry Christmas.” he whispered quietly into another kiss.

The late hours of the evening found them lying on the couch, Thorin on his side and half on top of Dwalin and both of them comfortably drowsy. Dwalin watched as Thorin was slowly dozing off, lulled to sleep by the comfortable warmth of Dwalin’s body and the soft rise and fall of his chest. He remembered the years of Christmas before Thorin had suddenly stepped into his life, often enough spent out on patrol or searching for pleasure in the multitude of bars around the city. His fingers were carefully paying with a strand of Thorin’s hair when it occurred to him that this was the best Christmas he’d had in years.

Thorin noticed the vibrations racing through his skin as he chuckled to himself at the realisation and looked up at Dwalin, smiling sleepily.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbled.

Dwalin was almost loath to voice his thoughts for fear they would sound too sentimental. After a moment of hesitation, however, he gave in and told Thorin of what had just been floating through his mind. Thorin grinned and punched him softly in the chest.

“You’re turning into a sentimental old man, Dwalin.” But Dwalin was sure he heard a softly murmured agreement from him when he had snuggled up more closely after a few moments.


End file.
